True to the Highlander(79)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Malcolm stomped the mud from his boots outside the doors to the great hall. March brought the promise of spring to their clan, and along with spring came the mud. He’d returned from the lists flanked by his two shadows, Tieren and Hunter. He’d made the decision to train them in the ways of knighthood himself. Hunter was his foster son, after all, and he couldn’t teach one without the other, for the boys were inseparable. Nor could he send Hunter to be fostered by another noble as was the custom. True wouldn’t hear of it.
He smiled to himself at the thought of his wife. They’d been wed since the end of November, and still he could scarce believe his good fortune. Once inside, he removed the outer garment True had made him for Christmas. A parka, she called it—soft deer hide lined with thick wool and trimmed with rabbit fur. He found it exceedingly comfortable and warm. Hunter wore a smaller version identical to his. Malcolm’s gift to her had been a ring made of gold set with sapphires, a wedding ring.
The boys, now deemed pages under his tutelage, rushed to prepare him a plate to break his fast as he took a seat at the table. The sound of feminine laughter floated down the stairs. True’s laughter never ceased to cause his heart to flip. He reached to tousle Hunter’s hair, and pointed toward the stairs just as True and Elaine made their entrance.
“I’m famished.” True took a seat next to him as Hunter and Tieren tripped over themselves to serve the two women.
“’Tis a fair day. Would you and Elaine like to join me for a ride this afternoon?” The days grew longer with each passing week. Winter had always been Malcolm’s favorite season. Fewer battles were fought, more leisure time to spend with friends and family, and this winter in particular, he’d spent a good deal more time in bed with his warm and willing wife.
“Oh yes.” True smiled. “And while we’re at it, you can show me places where maple trees grow. It’s about time to gather the sap for syrup. Thomas has prepared the shunts and pails as I asked.”
“Aye, I can.”
“Good. Molly has a group of folks ready to help with the harvest. Just wait till you taste it, Malcolm.” She gave his hand a squeeze and turned to Elaine. “Will you come with us for a ride?”
“Och, aye. I’ve seen enough of these gray walls.” Elaine sipped the tea Hunter had placed before her. “’Twill be good to get some fresh air.”
A single blast from the village horn interrupted their conversation. True looked at him with her brows raised in question. “Word from my father, most likely.” He grabbed the remainder of the bread and cheese before him and rose from his place. “The ice is no’ completely out yet. ’Twill take some time before our guest arrives.” Bending down, he gave True a brief kiss before taking his leave with the boys on his heels. “We’ll ride another day, lass.”
Liam joined him on his way to the ferry landing. “Word from your father, no doubt.”
“Aye. ’Tis time we heard something. I’m anxious to hear his response regarding Meikle Geddes, and he’ll likely be sending word of his return.” He put his hand on Liam’s shoulder for an instant. “And news of our king.”
“Think you the ferry will attempt the crossing?”
“Nay. ’Tis certain they’ll send one of the skiffs.” A crowd had gathered near the landing to watch the small boat make its way through the ice floes in a crooked path toward shore. One man sat in the prow, and the ferry master manned the oars. Malcolm moved closer to shore to pull the skiff up on the sand as it landed.
“Welcome,” Malcolm said, offering his hand to the young man wearing the garb of a messenger. “I am Malcolm, son of William, the earl of Fife.”
Muddy and travel worn, the messenger took the offered hand and climbed out of the boat. “My thanks, my lord. Edward of York be my name. I am the king’s messenger and bring word from London.”
Malcolm’s eyes narrowed, and his heart raced. They’d heard naught since his father’s departure, and he knew not what to expect. “King James or King Henry?” he asked mildly.
“Henry, though ’tis from James and your father that I bring tidings.”
Satisfied, he gestured toward the portcullis. “Come to the keep. Refresh yourself and have something to eat before you tell us the news. It has been a long winter without word from my father. Is he well?”
“He is. Or at least he was when last I saw him. Your keep is only one of many I’ve visited these past three months. I bring an edict from your King James to all the clans.”